


Nine Hours Later

by patxaran



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: 10000 panic attacks, Big Bang Challenge, CONTENT TAGS GENERAL:, CONTENT WARNING TAGS:, Canon Compliant, Dark Continent Arc, Gen, Humor, Spoilers, Succession Contest Arc (Hunter X Hunter), bill bill bill bill bill, hxhrarepairbb, hxhrpbb2020, i guess i'm just dragging bill for like +5k huh, i mean like all of it, i've cobbled together bill's entire characterization from nothing but scraps and emotive sweating, in memoriam [most likely]: sayrid, in memoriam no wait fuck you: vincent, in memoriam: kurton, in memoriam: sandra, or well compliant as far as i can remember, rated teen and up for mild swearing, seriously you have to have read the manga to even know what is going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27350731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patxaran/pseuds/patxaran
Summary: A fic about what happens when Bill finds himself body-guarding the Prince Baby alone for about nine hours or so, gradually accepting the fact his coworkers are all either dead or dying and he might just be the last man standing in a Nen-fueled battle royale.AKA, your intensely capable coworker crumpling to the floor within arm's reach of you while you justwatch him fallis a poor start to a long night, Bill....Also Starring: Babimyna, Shimano, Sakata, Hashito, Slakka, and Kurapika's unconscious form
Relationships: Bill & Babimaina | Babimyna (Hunter X Hunter), Bill & Kurapika (Hunter x Hunter), Bill & Shimano (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 32





	1. Smooth Sailing

Kurton had said it’d be smooth sailing. 

If anything, they were protecting Queen Oito from rival queens. Maybe some small affair of inter-family politics gone awry would crop up mid-journey, or maybe just a classic case of jealousy. Royals always had stuff like that going on. For a Hunter, none of these were serious threats. 

Terrorists might be a problem. If they could use Nen, even worse. Still, as far as maybe terrorists or outsider attacks went, any groups so weak and lacking in influence that a baby and its young mother were their only feasible options weren’t going to be able to contend with Hunters. 

Nope, the job, Kurton had said, was going to be simple. Child’s play. Dull. Nothing but smooth sailing from here until they got the cue that they were leaving with Beyond Netero, their true leader, for the Dark Continent. 

Bill sure hoped Kurton was right.


	2. Kurton Was Wrong

Kurton was wrong. 

Kurton, in fact, was dead. 

Things were the opposite of smooth and, much like the forecasted seas for the five-week journey ahead, only getting rougher. 

To top it all off, Bill’s primary ally had just crumpled mid-sentence and hit the ground with a resounding thud. 

“Kurapika!” 

Bill regretted having not caught him. As a Hunter, his reflexes should’ve been better. He could move his Ten shielded arm fast enough to stop oncoming bullets. What was his excuse for letting a tired teenager collapse to the floor right in front of him? He’d seen Kurapika go pale. He’d seen Kurapika’s eyes go out of focus as he'd listened to something Bill couldn’t hear, then stumbled, then pitched forward. 

And Bill had just let him fall. 

At the same time, Shimano cried out in alarm, alerting Bill to Queen Oito’s almost simultaneous collapse on the edge of the bed. Shimano had saved her from slumping forward into the ground. She'd even caught the notebook Queen Oito had been writing in. Holding them both back, she glanced frantically over her shoulder to Bill standing there, startled and sweating, failing to wrap his head around what was happening for several long seconds. 

“A doctor…” said Bill, thinking of Queen Oito before realizing this might’ve had something to do with Nen. Shimano was already shaking her head, rejecting the suggestion before he’d finished the thought. 

Before she could speak, they were interrupted by a short knock on the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written for the [Hunter X Hunter Rarepair Big Bang](https://hxhrarepairbb.tumblr.com) as a collaboration with the artist, [canalsobemoe](https://canalsobemoe.tumblr.com) (aka: [pressforward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressforward/pseuds/pressforward) here on ao3). 
> 
> [Here is a link to the art!](https://canalsobemoe.tumblr.com/post/633719077165268992/art-for-patxarans-fic-9-hours-later-in-a) It won't spoil you for the fic, and also it's cool. Everyone is just in various stages of distress and Babimyna is just like, looming....


	3. Incredulous Sakata

Bill and Shimano exchanged glances. 

The knock sounded again. 

“Is everything alright?” 

It was Sakata. No chance he was alone. Babimyna never said much, but he was sure to be nosing around on the sidelines, taking everything in. Sure, Babimyna might’ve been compassionate enough to remove his En from the Queen’s room after Prince Momoze’s murder, but Bill was too smart to trust him just for that. Babimyna had to have realized the Queen was using Nen after her outburst and confrontation with Kurapika. On the bright side, lifting this En meant Babimyna hadn’t sensed Kurapika’s collapse. He didn’t know they were down one man and the Queen herself. Not yet, anyhow. 

Bill raised a finger to his lips, and Shimano nodded. He straightened his jacket and went to the door. Though his shirt was already damp with sweat, he settled his face into a weary but neutral expression and pushed the door open. 

“We’re alright in here,” Bill told Sakata through the narrow opening. He glanced past Sakata briefly, and as he’d guessed, Babimyna was there over Sakata’s shoulder. “You can return to your station,” said Bill. He kept his hand on the latch, ready to slam the door shut as sharply as he’d opened it at the slightest provocation. 

“I heard a shout,” said Sakata. 

“A nightmare,” said Bill, falling back on Kurapika’s initial excuse from right before Queen Oito had struck him in front of everyone and said she’d handle matters herself. Sakata, who’d witnessed the same scene and heard the same lie, looked doubtful. 

“And Kurapika?” asked Sakata. “Is he alright?” 

“He’s…with the Queen.” 

“I heard you shout his name.” 

“Ah,” said Bill thoughtfully. It was all he had to say. 

“At around the same time, there was a heavy thud,” said Sakata. “Someone fell.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Bill was quick to correct him. “Someone tripped.” 

Sakata, who had seen the low-ranking queen’s sparse quarters, asked, “Over…?” and sounded genuinely curious. 

“Prince Woble’s toys.” 

As the words left his mouth, Bill mentally kicked himself. He was thinking of dogs, not babies. 

“Kurapika tripped over a toy? A small baby toy?” 

Maybe in front of Sakata alone, Bill would’ve agreed, but there was no way he was going to admit to any minute weakness on behalf of the person Babimyna had left in charge of the room only a short time ago. Kurapika’s image of authority could be compromised by clumsiness. 

“Ah, no,” said Bill, letting his increasing anxiety code as deep, personal embarrassment. “That was me.” 

Sakata eyes flitted over Bill, performing a quick reassessment of him and adjusting his expectations accordingly. Bill didn’t dare check to see Babimyna’s own reaction. 

“You fell?” asked Sakata. 

It wasn’t hard for Bill to sound put upon as he confirmed this. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a mess in here since you left. Prince Woble has the run of the place. As is her right, but still. Kids, you know?” 

Bill’s hand itched to shut the door, but Sakata’s face clouded with confusion once again. 

“You mean the Prince is still awake?” 

“Yes.” 

“Past 9pm at night?” 

Bill kicked himself again. “Sure.” 

“Is that reasonable? I know the Prince is a royal, but she’s still an infant. Her mother—” 

“We’re trying to keep her calm and happy given the circumstances,” said Bill, cutting Sakata off. He lowered his voice and Sakata leaned in. “There’s the Nen Beast, the parasitic Nen, remember? Prince Woble was getting worked up after Queen Oito’s outburst. While the Queen is resting, we’re making sure the Prince is in a good mood before she’s tucked in. I can’t speak for anyone’s expertise with babies, but Kurapika and I are Pro Hunters, experts in Nen, and you can rest assured we know what we are doing. There is no need for you to interfere, everything is under control, and you may return to your post and remain there unless we call for you.” Bill gripped the door handle harder and nodded sharply. “Goodnight.” 

With this, Bill shut the door. At the last moment, he’d dared to look past Sakata. Babimyna was staring straight back. There was hardly time to so much as shift a brow or nod, and yet, as their eyes met, Bill felt as if Babimyna had grown somehow sharper, his gaze more piercing and dangerous, while at the same time…at the same time he was mocking Bill. Babimyna saw through the ruse. He knew. Kurapika was not okay, and it had to do with Nen. Whatever was going on in the bedchamber, they were in real trouble. 

Bill jerked his hand away from the shut door and shook it unconsciously, as if the handle had left some sort of residue on his fingers. Shimano cleared her throat and motioned to Kurapika, still bent double on the ground, right where Bill had let him fall and left him. 

Bill sighed and went to Kurapika’s side to check he was still breathing. He tried to wake him up again, but Kurapika didn’t stir. 


	4. Sleep Tight

Since most of the guards had been murdered in the midst of unpacking, no spare pillows or blankets had made it into the bedchamber. Instead, Shimano gave up a pillow and a throw blanket from the Queen’s own bed, and Bill went about moving Kurapika out of sight of the door.

The ground was hard, but Bill tried to arrange Kurapika in a position that looked like it might be comfortable. Kurapika himself gave little indication of how he felt either way, even as he’d been dragged across the floor, his belt and shoes scratching and snagging on the floor mats. As Bill lay the likely useless blanket over Kurapika and set his head on the pillow, he assured himself that even coma patients were granted the decency of blankets and pillows, weren’t they? He tugged and finicked with the blanket a little more before finally letting go.

At any rate, it was easier to feel optimistic and hope Kurapika was only sleeping when he was nicely tucked in.

Bill did his best.


	5. Is Nen So Complicated

Shimano knelt in the space between Queen Oito’s bed and Prince Woble’s cradle, ready to respond to either if there were a fuss. Bill went to the door to stand guard. At ten, the shifts changed for the night. Bill listened to the rumble of murmured voices and shuffling steps outside, but thankfully no one used the change as a pretense to knock and check in on them.

Bill shifted where he stood and sighed, casting his gaze across the room to the bed and past it, where he knew Kurapika lay hidden.

After things had been quiet for some time, Shimano got up and turned down the lights. Bill almost asked what she thought she was doing before realizing the light in the bedchamber might be visible around the door frame if the lights in the main room had also been turned down for the night. Shimano looked over expectantly when she heard him move, but Bill shook his head and waved for her to resume what she’d been doing. When she turned away, he pursed his lips and pinched the space between his eyes, telling himself to calm down. How effective was he if he was still so tightly wound he lost track of his surroundings? Staying awake was only half the work of standing guard. He needed to remain alert. He had to stay present.

…He’d been an idiot. Up until the ship had set sail and that guy Woody turned up dead in a bathroom, Bill had oversimplified everything. He’d assumed the initial five week leg of the journey would be the easy part. Why not? Joining Beyond’s team had already been easy. Signing up through Pariston, having his pick of the available Princes to guard, and deciding on a seemingly harmless baby—it had all been so easy. It was no wonder, then, while on the airship overlooking the Black Whale, when Kurton had offhandedly remarked it’d be smooth sailing, Bill had almost believed it.

But, nothing about a journey to the Dark Continent was supposed to be easy. Bill had been lulled into a false sense of security by his own arrogance in thinking surviving the Dark Continent would be his biggest challenge. Royal squabbles, jealous spats, sibling rivalry—that was all he’d figured Kakin Princes needed bodyguards to protect them from. And now, Kurton was dead, Sayrid had been arrested, and Bill hadn’t done anything special to end up the only one spared. It’d been dumb luck. He’d simply cooperated and mentioned Parasitic Nen at the right moment, and Kurapika had pulled him from the room to discuss it along with everyone’s true missions on board.

“Any change?” whispered Bill to Shimano as he rejoined her beside the bed. He’d been checking on Kurapika and Queen Oito himself using Gyo, but their aura remained steady and still.

Shimano shook her head.

Bill took a seat on the floor beside Kurapika. Kurapika had been struck by a wave of fever earlier, so Shimano had undone his shirt collar and pulled his blanket partway down. He now looked worse than when Bill had left him. Bill sighed. The light cover of En he’d spread around the room reassured him there was nothing to hear them if they kept their voices down.

“We’ll have to stand guard all night,” said Bill. “Even if he wakes up, he should rest.”

“I don’t believe he’ll want to keep resting.”

“It doesn’t matter. He knows Prince Momoze died because she overexerted herself. He’ll know better than to fall into the same trap.” Bill stopped and took a deep breath. “Or well, I mean…he’ll know better than to have this kind of thing happen to him a second time.”

Shimano seemed a little reassured Bill was choosing to act as if there were even going to be a second time.

“How long will he and the Queen be like this?”

Bill shrugged. “There’s no telling.”

“In your expert opinion, as a Hunter, what would you maybe guess?”

“I don’t know.”

“An estimate.”

Bill didn’t have an answer for her.

“Is Nen so complicated?” asked Shimano, sounding polite but more than a little put off. “Could it be a whole week?”

“Oh god, I hope not.”

“…You ‘hope’ not.”

Bill looked away, embarrassed, and decided he needed to get up again. He brushed himself off as he stood and went back to the door to stand guard. Shimano, impassive and yet strangely judgemental, had nothing further to ask.


	6. Invasive Species

These were valid questions. 

These were genuine concerns. 

Bill wasn’t just thinking like this because he was bored and worn out, and it was already past midnight with no notable change in the Queen or Kurapika’s conditions. 

So. 

He’d been wondering. 

Was the cockroach in the vents unconscious, too? 

Or, was it wandering around up there, getting lost and escaping? Maybe it was paralyzed in place, unable to move or act without the human directing it, and because of this, a spider was going to discover it soon and drag it off to consume. 

Bill grimaced at the thought. Eaten alive, and there was nothing it could do. Maybe by now it was already dead. Bill couldn’t tell. He just didn’t know. 

But, to think, after all his effort: The frantic yet furtive search for a small creature to use, the pretending to control a bug with Nen out loud for an audience, and then, defending himself from idiot ideas like making a cockroach land on his bare finger as a demonstration. And now? That cockroach, along with their best chance at reconnaissance, might be gone forever. Poof. Bill’s best pen had been touched by a bug, and for what? They hadn’t even been able to save Prince Momoze. 

Bill’s gaze drifted to the slatted air vents around the room. Little Eye would be lifted if the target died. Would that wake up Kurapika and Queen Oito? If so, was locating and killing the cockroach the real priority? If they waited too long, would Kurapika’s ability function as a curse, draining away his and the Queen’s aura in a slow trickle until either the cockroach died, or they did? 

How did this ability of Kurapika’s even work? Borrowing—or in most cases stealing—Nen abilities was rife with danger. The conditions needed to pull it off were often absurdly difficult and risky. He hated thinking what conditions someone might’ve had to meet in order to, with near instantaneous ease, extract the aura from a whole other person and gain access to their Hatsu. 

It probably had something to do with those vividly red eyes. 

No, scratch that. It probably had everything to do with those vividly red eyes. 

Bill decided he wasn’t going to think about that, or about Kurapika’s true mission to fight a high-ranking Kakin Prince face-to-face. He knit his fingers together and rested his forehead against them. For now, he was just going to think about that cockroach. He more or less understood what cockroaches were about, what mattered to them and what they might do. He also knew Sayrid’s ability, even if Sayrid himself would have struggled to answer many of the questions on Bill’s mind at the moment. As far as Bill was aware, Sayrid had never exerted himself to total exhaustion while using Little Eye. He’d also probably never been knocked out while controlling something. The nature of an Emitter like Sayrid was to stay at some level removed from the fray. The team’s Enhancer could always rush forward to meet a confrontation, even if Bill personally preferred ducking out when things went south. 

Straightforward solutions, as Bill had often needed to remind his more battle-happy colleagues, didn’t always involve rushing headlong into a fight. Sometimes, maybe even almost all the time, the most direct solution to a problem was to swerve out of its way, avoiding it entirely. 

Even before becoming a Hunter, Bill had been called a coward for even suggesting things like this. Watching people like Kurapika, Shimano, and the Queen keep going, even when they understood better than him what dismal odds they were up against, didn’t leave Bill a lot of room to resort to cowardice. Prince Woble and Queen Oito depended on him. One less man on Beyond’s Dark Continent expedition would make hardly a ripple, but one less bodyguard in Room 1014 would doom the ill-fated mother and child to die, and that couldn’t happen. If Bill couldn’t make it off the Black Whale without abandoning his assignment, he wasn’t going to be of much use on the Dark Continent expedition anyway. The Dark Continent was no place for Bill’s brand of cowardice disguised as smart thinking and healthy risk aversion. On the Dark Continent, there was nowhere to run away to. 

And yet, the very first real test of Bill’s resolve was taking place before he’d even set foot on the Dark Continent, and it was already too much. He was already alone, biding his time until his enemies realized how vulnerable he and Kurapika really were. 

Damn. And he’d really wanted to see what grew on the Dark Continent, too. The systems of life and environment must’ve been unreal, and for the opportunity to catch even a glimpse of it all, he’d have followed anyone. By now he was too familiar with the corrupting influence of power on human beings, so, he wasn’t hoping to conquer any new worlds; he’d only wanted to behold it. He’d wanted to meet it, and afterwards, if he died there, he wouldn’t be so afraid. He’d lived as far as he could, even as a coward. He’d reached the Dark Continent, the furthest point of everything humanity would ever know. In some way, wasn’t that every Hunter’s dream? By their nature, weren’t they always striving to reach the limits of human experience, ability, and knowledge? 

It was too bad, though. At the rate things were going, a stowaway cockroach had a better chance of surviving the journey and making it to the Dark Continent than Bill did. 

Bill’s gaze fell on the vents again. 

Did the Dark Continent have cockroaches? 

Imagine, overcoming every hardship to reach the Dark Continent only to find it overrun with cockroaches. Nothing too strange, just the normal kinds, but more of them. Way more. Proliferating. Thriving. 

What if there were too many? What if they’d arrived unofficially on human expeditions a hundred years ago? Had the Gatekeeper cursed humanity to bring back calamities in retribution for contaminating an unsullied world with mundane household insects that spread with such prodigious speed that not even the Dark Continent’s supernatural flora and fauna could eradicate them? 

Bill’s vision slipped out of focus. All he was thinking about were invasive species, how to prevent them, and how a bug with no natural enemies could overrun a whole world. It was lulling him to a sleep that promised dreams so strange they’d verge on nightmares, except he’d wake up depressed and confused instead of terrified. Humanity didn’t deserve the new world if the only plan they could come up with was to overrun it, drain its resources, and start killing each other over whatever pieces happened to have rare value. It was why the Dark Continent didn’t want them there, and why the Gatekeeper protected the Dark Continent from humans as much as it protected humans from themselves. Bill had had enough of it, too. As a Hunter with no stars, he’d already failed to improve the world he’d come from. He'd just wanted to see something that would never belong to anyone and couldn’t be corrupted so easily. He’d wanted to go someplace he wasn’t expected to make any better by being there, where laziness and cowardice didn’t let anyone down, and no one needed him to do much for them. 

It looked like he was paying for his selfishness, now. Now, everyone in this one room needed him. 

Bill’s vision snapped back into focus. It wasn’t time to start getting weird. Not tonight. He had a job to do. 


	7. Sleeping to Death

Maybe Kurapika was dying. They didn’t know. Bill wasn’t a doctor.

Whenever he said Kurapika was looking worse, Shimano didn’t see it. Bill didn’t know how to explain.

All Bill knew was that every time he went over to check on Kurapika, it didn’t look like Kurapika was getting much better.

This wasn't sleep. It never had been. It was neither restive nor restorative.

It couldn’t be, because, every time Bill checked, the dark circles under Kurapika’s eyes didn’t fade.

_They got deeper._

“Oh fuck,” whispered Bill softly to himself.

Shimano chided him for swearing in front of the baby, although Prince Woble remained soundly asleep in her crib.

At least the Prince’s own sleep was real.

Queen Oito hadn’t changed, either. Maybe she was really sleeping, too, on some level.

And maybe Kurapika was dying.

Bill decided if their conditions didn’t improve by dawn, he was going to have to accept that this was all up to him, now.


	8. Hash[ito]ing Out The Details

At around midnight, Hashito arrived to ask for clarification concerning night shifts. Bill told him Kurapika was on duty next in the bedchamber. Hashito asked for how long, reminding Bill that, in the chaos of the evening and the Queen’s premonition of Prince Momoze’s death, no final schedule had been drawn up.

“For tonight, we’ll forgo an official schedule,” said Bill. He was forced to step out and shut the door behind him because Hashito kept casting glances into the room in an attempt to spot Kurapika and consult with him instead. Before Hashito could say anything, Bill held up a finger to shush him and turned around. He pretended to look back to someone else out of sight of the door, then redoubled his En. Hashito, of course, couldn’t sense it, but, in the corner of the room, Babimyna perked up. In fact, he was so obvious about it, it was more like he wanted to remind Bill he was there.

Not wanting to be perceived as the coward he himself knew he was, Bill lifted a hand slightly towards Babimyna in acknowledgment, but kept his attention on Hashito, who hadn’t stopped frowning since he’d been shushed.

“Are you sure this is the wisest approach?” asked Hashito. “You and Kurapika have been exerting yourselves defending the Queen and Prince for some time now. I understand that the Queen trusts and relies on you both tremendously, but the Third Prince sent Sakata and myself to not only make up numbers, but to provide expert advice. Therefore, I’d advise you to reconsider working so late into the night without rest.”

Bill pretended to consider the suggestion but was really only thinking of forming an easy argument against it. It didn’t have to make sense. He just had to not back down on it until he wore Hashito out.

“The Queen has suffered a great deal of stress this evening,” said Bill. “She’ll only sleep if those she trusts are looking after her, no one else. It’s too soon. We’ll forgo a schedule for now in consideration of hers and the Prince’s conditions.”

“I see,” said Hashito as if he needed to squint to do so. “Well, in that case, it’s understandable. But, it’s still a risk to overexert yourselves too soon, though,” he warned. “We can’t have you both collapsing from exhaustion, especially with Nen lessons first thing tomorrow morning.”

“We’re bearing that in mind,” said Bill. Indeed, something like it had been the only thing he'd thought about for several hours.

Hashito departed a short time later, and Bill headed back into the bedchamber. Before he was halfway through the door, however, an unsubtle cough stopped him in his tracks.

“You know,” said Babimyna, “you sound a lot like Kurapika.”

And Bill realized only then, embarrassed, that he’d defaulted to yet another one of Kurapika’s own excuses by blaming Queen Oito’s distress for his operational decisions.

“Of course,” said Bill. “We work together.”

He nodded once in Babimyna’s direction without looking over and slipped quicker back into the bedchamber, not relaxing his En until he was sure Babimyna had kept his distance and stayed in the corner.


	9. Think Faster, Not Further

Bill was by no means a genius. He’d come to terms with that a long time ago. He was decisive, yes, but you didn’t have to be smart to make quick decisions or resolve yourself to something you didn't know how to extricate yourself from. It was why he felt more comfortable working in teams or following someone’s lead. His innate resistance to thinking too deep caused him to default too often to the easiest choice, even if he suspected it wasn’t the best one.

As self-affirmed example of at best moderate intelligence, Bill was genuinely impressed by people who worked out situations like math, putting it all together and coming up with a strategy. He knew it wasn’t in his nature. Bill was less complicated than that. His own Hatsu was him straightforward just powering things up, enhancing them with his own aura like he was never going to run out. What else was he supposed to do with all that raw, Enhancer-type aura and strength at his fingertips? Get buff? No, thanks. People picked enough fights with him when they heard he was a Hunter. He didn't need the extra muscles or stature to egg them on harder.

Fundamentally, Bill was about peace. Bill was about growth. He was about cooperation and working together as a team.

He wasn’t about everyone dying within hours of each other and leaving him the last man standing in a Nen-fueled battle royale.

“Kurapika knew what he was doing,” said Bill. Shimano, a captive audience whenever Bill had anything to say, turned and waited to hear him out. “He knew about the Succession War. He knew the real stakes.”

Bill scoffed ruefully under this breath without smiling. “And me?” he said. “I just thought Queen Oito favored him for superficial reasons. It was weird, arriving with two other Pro Hunters and expecting to take charge by default, only to find out the Queen had long since chosen to rely on a kid. Of course, all along, he was the only one she knew was on her side. He was the only one she’d chosen herself out of everyone. The rest of us were pawns in other games, playing by our versions of what we thought were the rules. And now? Kurton’s dead. Sayrid’s as good as dead. Kurapika, who had the best chance among all of us, might be dying, too. Knowing what was happening didn’t save him.”

“He’s still alive,” said Shimano. She indicated Kurapika’s rising and falling chest. He was at least still breathing.

“Yes. But, for how much longer? How much longer does this have to go on? Not even Nen can tell the future." Bill stared off into the distance after this and reconsidered. His mind might've been running at a thousand desperate thoughts a minute, but actually thinking with intention had gotten excruciatingly slow. "At least, you can't tell the future reliably. No one in their right mind would try. It’s better to focus on reliable abilities to use in the present moment instead of wasting aura on the future, the what-ifs. Think faster, not further. You know?”

Shimano studied Bill. After a moment, she ventured a vague, “You, uh, you seem tired.”

Bill sighed and waved off her concern. “No.” He said and shook his head. “They’re genetic.” Shimano stared, mystified, until he pointed to the patches of creased and puffy skin under his eyes. “I’m not all that tired, actually; it just looks that way. I’m fine. My Nen-type means I’m actually pretty energetic most of the time. I can go without sleep for multiple days, and my face doesn’t even change.”

“It’s still been a long day,” insisted Shimano.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Bill. “Lots of good men died.”

“And Sandra.”

“And Kurton.”

Shimano’s smooth, stoic brow pinched together ever so slightly, but Bill wasn’t looking.

“This is what I get,” said Bill. “Now, it’s just me. I volunteered to help Prince Woble survive when I still had a team, but now, it’s just me. Alone. But, I can’t back out.”

“You’re not alone,” said Shimano.

Bill looked meaningfully at Kurapika. “I hope not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao guess who just straight up forgot to update this or any fic for weeks on end bc who even knows tf why
> 
> (that's a lie, i know why: it's bc i only had like seven chapters pre-uploaded as drafts and all i had to do was update the date and then post them, and then when i hit the last chapter i'd already put as i draft i just like, put off copying and formatting more chapters. for anyone who has followed any of my other fics over the years, this is behind-the-scenes extremely on brand for me lmao sry)
> 
> while i'm here tho: [here's a link to the tumblr for the HxH Big Bang 2021](https://hxhbb2021.tumblr.com/post/640154137781256192/hxh-big-bang-2021-sign-up) in case anyone is interested!


	10. Bye Slakka

Sometime after two in the morning, someone knocked. Shimano didn’t make a sound, but Bill, who was closer to the door, jumped a little and shielded himself in protective Nen.

He pulled himself together before asking who it was without opening the door.

“It’s Slakka.”

Bill frowned. He’d already noticed how Babimyna sort of vaguely kept close to Sakata sometimes, while Slakka kept extremely close to Hashito near constantly. Why would one come now without trailing the other?

Bill didn’t want to open the door, but there was no way to keep his voice down otherwise. The Queen was supposed to be sleeping.

“What is it?” asked Bill through an even narrower crack in the door than he’d allowed Sakata earlier that evening.

“Drew the short straw,” said Slakka. “Some of us on break in the security and staff cabins are curious what you guys are up to in here. It’s suspicious.”

The single eye Slakka could see through the gap in the door narrowed.

“What’s so suspicious? You should mind your own business.”

“Now hey, don’t blame me. We’re all just wondering. You know how it is.”

“Wondering what?”

“Well, are you guys, like, sleeping in the clients’ own room or something?”

“I’m not asleep,” snapped Bill, sounding a lot calmer and matter-of-fact than he felt.

“And that Kurapika guy?”

For some reason, Bill felt it would behoove him to not divulge whether Kurapika were on break or not. Kurapika was the main face of their operation. Most people, Nen-users and non-Nen-users alike, probably felt they could take Bill, but with Kurapika around they wouldn’t dare.

“He’s also not asleep.”

Technically this was true. Kurapika was in some kind of Nen coma. Bill wasn’t going to call that sleep, not when it seemed to be making Kurapika worse with every passing second rather than better.

“You’re pulling all-nighters? Both of you?” asked Slakka. The thought alone prompted him to yawn wide. “Damn. Don’t Hunters need to sleep? You’re still human, right? How’s that work?”

“As if we’d make our sleeping schedules and shifts known.”

“No, but is it like that Edison Method? Like twenty minute nap intervals?”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon, relax. We have coffee in the staff cabins. Ditch that stuffy Kurapika guy for a minute. He’s got things covered, right? A guy like him seems to be the type to do everything himself anyway. He won’t miss you.”

“No, thanks.”

“Just tell the guy you’re taking a piss.”

“By ‘no’, I mean forget it. I’m not going anywhere,” said Bill. Something about Slakka’s voice and manner tried his patience, and, based on the expressions of the various guards he’s seen also interacting with Slakka since Slakka had arrived, Bill wasn’t alone in that regard.

“Oh? So, you think you’re better than us, is that it?” asked Slakka. “Guys like you would rather sleep on the floor than associate with us non-Hunters?”

To his credit, Bill really tried to think of something fair to say. He didn’t want to foster bad feelings, to give anyone a personal reason to want to hurt him or his clients in addition to the existing political reasons already in play.

At the same time, Bill’s gaze drifted past Slakka and deep into the dim living room beyond. He stopped at a shadowy figure with broad shoulders and a puff of paler hair atop his head like a wooly mushroom cap.

Bill slid the door open enough to lean out of it part way and hold up a reprimanding finger to Slakka. Slakka took a step back, unsettled by the abrupt change, but not intimidated. He’d probably expected Bill to launch a secret bug at him from up his sleeve.

“In case you haven't noticed, this is no longer a luxury cruise,” said Bill, chiding him. “Those of us on duty can’t afford to relax or partake in idle chit-chat. If it’s not your shift, get out of the living area and go to bed. If anyone sees you out here or anywhere near the bedchamber when you have no reason to be, it’ll be assumed you’re trying to assassinate the Prince. For your safety, stay where you belong. Goodnight.”

With this, Bill straightened and shut the door, hard. Slakka had started to say something and got as far as an affronted “Hey—”, before he was cut off by another, lower voice warning him people were sleeping and it was best he kept his voice down. He should head back. Bill was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a part of me is like hey maybe i should post some pictures of the bodyguards so ya'll can remember who they are, but then i'm like lol nah if we'd all been able to tell the bodyguards apart by their faces to begin with we wouldn't even be having the problem where we have no idea who any of them are anymore
> 
> so lol sry to all yalls memories of the black whale bodyguards potentially being shit, but i'm different (bc i reread, like, _most of_ the arc before i wrote this)


	11. The Nen User

“You should’ve excused yourself and shut the door after he asked where you were sleeping,” said Shimano. Bill had just turned back to face the room, leaning hard into the door for good measure even as he heard Slakka retreating beyond it.

“I can’t just be rude to people,” said Bill, as if chastising an adult and shutting a door in his face didn’t count. “Or, well, not for no reason.”

“His questions were reason enough.”

Bill agreed, but Shimano didn’t make him say it. He joined her at the bedside without a word, not because he needed to check on the Queen or Kurapika’s condition for the umpteenth time, but because he felt better staying in close proximity to his principles. There was no knowing when one of their many Nen-wielding enemies might make a move. Anything could happen.

“Have we made the right choice?” asked Bill, hesitating where he stood. He looked down towards Shimano, and she shrugged, inviting him to elaborate. “About hiding their condition,” said Bill. “Is that right? Was that a good idea?”

“Yes,” said Shimano without even needing to consider it.

“How are you so sure?”

“The less the others know, the better—especially that one from the army. The First Prince’s soldier.”

“Babimyna,” said Bill, agreeing. “The Nen user.”

“He’s challenged you and Kurapika every step of the way since he’s arrived.”

“He definitely didn’t hesitate to suggest I land a cockroach on my bare finger. That guy’s looking for a fight.”

Shimano lowered her head and, after glancing all around the room first, leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s still out in the main room, isn’t he?” she asked. She pointed to the door, as if mentioning Babimyna by name might summon him into their midst.

“Yeah,” said Bill, mirroring Shimano leaning in. “He’s been on guard in front of the entrance hall all night as far as I’ve seen. Guess he’s not sleeping, either. Do you think he suspects something?”

“His entire mission is to suspect something,” said Shimano. She sighed. “Also, he has to have noticed by now that only you answer the door.”

“I’ve told everyone Kurapika’s with the Queen, so it’s not necessarily a problem if Babimyna has noticed. Nen-users like us, we try to think of everything, so he's probably inferred I always answer the door in order to not give away which of us is actually on duty. He’s probably even thinking we’re both awake standing guard tonight. And he’d probably have been right about that, too, if, well, if all _this_ hadn’t happened.”

Bill gestured from Kurapika on one side to the Queen on the other. Shimano followed his hand with a solemn expression.

“Will something happen to you next?” she asked. Bill winced.

“Will I pass out? I sure hope not,” he said. “This kind of thing better not happen to me, ever.”

“And...” Shimano dropped the voice to a nearly inaudible whisper, “...Babimyna?”

Bill found himself whispering back to her just as softly on reflex. “No, of course not. Under normal circumstances, Nen-users are far more conscientious about aura expenditure. Passing out isn’t a common side-effect of using Nen.”

“And you’re sure he didn’t do anything to them?”

Bill hesitated. “I’m not inclined to think so,” he supposed. “Kurapika didn’t look…I don’t know. Surprised? Or, well, he looked surprised, but he also looked as if he had an idea what was happening to him, but he just couldn’t believe it. I don’t think he was attacked. I think he miscalculated.”

“Are you sure nothing happened while you were with Babimyna earlier? In the living room? When Kurapika and the Queen went to see the Third Prince?”

Bill admired how quickly Shimano was starting to think like a Nen-user, even if it was a fine line between thinking ahead and succumbing to baseless anxiety over every improbable Nen-infused outcome. Bill hadn’t noticed anything strange earlier, and he’d given Babimyna his full and complete attention from the moment he’d motioned the guy into the room ahead of him while Kurapika left with the Queen and Prince Woble. As far Bill had known at the time, his very life had depended on it. And yet, all Babimyna had done was stand there, maybe a little closer to the phone than Bill would’ve liked, but otherwise harmless. For the entire time the others had been gone, Babimyna had simply waited. And watched. And kept on waiting.

It’d been just about the longest hour of Bill’s life. When Maor called, he’d been so relieved at the distraction he’d unthinkingly turned his back to Babimyna for almost a whole minute. His En told him nothing had changed. Only after he'd finished speaking to Maor did Babimyna close in by a few steps and ask who the call had been from.

For a second, Bill had wondered dangerously what might happen if he simply didn’t answer that question. Did he even owe Babimyna an explanation?

Fortunately, better instincts had prevailed. Moar was on his way, which meant Babimyna was going to find out anyway. There was nothing to hide. Bill relayed the relevant details as succinctly as possible and left it at that. Babimyna responded by narrowing his eyes down towards him and looking close, like he was going to find something incriminating in the slow bead of sweat dripping down Bill’s temple as the silence between them went on longer than what made Bill feel safe.

Bill had never stopped using Gyo, not from the moment Babimyna had appeared at the door. So, as far as he could tell, Babimyna hadn’t made a single move. He tried to stare Bill down two more times to intimidate him, but he hadn’t needed Nen for that. He was a whole head taller, twice as broad, and armed. And yet, despite how intimidating he looked, his ability to use Nen was, by and far, his biggest and only real threat.

So, no, Bill hadn’t missed any Nen traps or attacks. He was certain of that.

“He hasn’t had the chance to act,” said Bill to Shimano. He made sure to look her in the eye as he explained. “There’s a lot about Nen that’s unpredictable, but it isn’t random. You can’t just do _anything_. There are rules and conditions you have to follow. It isn’t magic.”

Shimano deeply doubted this last sentence, but she kept it to herself. If Bill was sure, then she had to be sure, too. She had to trust him and keep a level head. Jumping to conclusions and letting her fear and uncertainty take over wasn’t going to protect her from a mysterious power she couldn't see or detect in any way.

“I’m not saying Kurapika’s condition doesn’t worry me, though,” said Bill. He sat down heavily on the floor at Kurapika’s feet and rested his head in his hands, suddenly exhausted. “Maybe, if he isn’t up by morning, there are some things I can try. If they don’t work, we’ll have to get a doctor. I’m not letting him waste away like this with the Queen along for the ride. We’ll have to save her, to break whatever bond is holding them together. We can’t let her die with him.”

Shimano didn’t like this and searched Bill’s face for some sort of small reassurance he might have forgotten to give. Bill dodged her gaze and hung his head, concentrating on his En perimeter instead. A small eternity later, he sensed movement at the fringes of the perimeter, accompanied by even, somewhat exaggerated footsteps approaching the door.

Someone knocked. There was no hurry to it, but the one knocking wouldn’t be kept waiting. That person already knew who’d answer. The knock said “come here” to Bill, specifically, and didn’t bother to ask if he felt like it or if he needed a minute.

Bill sighed and got up, hoping uselessly that whoever was outside the door, it wasn’t the only person he knew it could be.


End file.
